


The Scent of Home

by PetraTodd



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Accepting love, Dating, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Femslash, Girlfriends - Freeform, Late at Night, Sexual Content, Waffles, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetraTodd/pseuds/PetraTodd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leaving the job at the office isn't always easy for Sally, but it helps when there's something sweet waiting for her at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scent of Home

**Author's Note:**

> From introspectivenavelgazer's prompt: Sally/Anthea and late night waffles.

Pushing open the door to her flat past midnight, Sally was sure she must be hallucinating the mouth-watering aroma of sweetness. Certainly the grim murder scene she’d left behind was enough to drive a woman to envision something heavenly to escape the blood-soaked hell of it. The potency of the scent reminded her of the smells from a nearby bread factory that would saturate the air outside her house in the early hours of the morning when she was a kid.

Now standing on the threshold of her flat, the scent washed over her and she breathed deep, feeling her steps grow lighter as she stepped into her home.

The coat hanging on the hook, the one beside which she hung her jacket, told her who must be the source of the welcome.

“Hungry?” called a feminine voice from the kitchen.

Sally smiled, and checked herself in the mirror. Her makeup had held the shadows at bay, but the blasting underground pipes of the crime scene spewing steam everywhere, had sent her hair into disarray. She struggled with a wild curl slapping at her eyes, before giving up and grabbing a hair tie from a bowl on the end table as she headed into the kitchen.

“Leave it down; I like you wild,” Anthea remarked from where she stood at the counter, her hands dusted with flour. She hadn’t bothered to take off her clothing from work before she started cooking. Sugar sprinkled across a skirt that cost more than Sally’s first car, but Anthea was always careless with her wardrobe that way, Sally had learned in their past few months of dating. The price was meaningless, the cut everything. It wasn’t that Anthea was endlessly wealthy, only that her priorities were different; that, and she claimed to have the best dry cleaner in London at her beck and call.

Sally slid her arms around her waist from behind and rested her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“It’s not your hair to sort out in the morning,” Sally retorted, but she felt herself smiling against her will as she bent her head to kiss Anthea’s throat.

Without looking toward her, Anthea flipped the handle, spinning the covered pan around so the Belgian waffle inside would cook evenly around the grid. Sally marveled at how handily she managed the equipment; the sleek appliance had been in its box since her mum gifted it to her the year before. Where Anthea had found it, she didn’t know, but if she’d realized the smell of waffles could turn her mood around so quickly, she’d have been using the damn waffle maker all along. But then maybe not. Tangling with new appliances usually left her swearing, burnt, and sweaty.

“How are you always so good at figuring out how to do things? Once I leave work, I can’t put two brain cells- ” Sally closed her eyes and inhaled, letting the aroma of waffles fill her nose, blotting out thoughts of the job, the bodies. She had to get better at that, or she’d crack like the old fellas at the Met, who’d let too many nights surrounded by death bleed them dry.

Anthea’s hands covered hers over her navel. “It’s generally easy for me. Taking things apart to determine how it works,” she said coolly. “And letting go if it doesn’t work. It’s more efficient that way. You care too much.”

Sally heard the note of chiding in her voice, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, sweetie, you’re a fool.”

Anthea’s perfectly groomed brow rose. She let go of the handle, turned off the maker, and popped the golden brown waffle onto the plate beside its twin. “Is that so?” She spun around into Sally’s arms, and with a sharp smile, backed her slowly into the refrigerator, her hands slithering down to her hips.

She reached up to cup Sally’s cheek, thumb stroking her strong jaw and tracing her full lower lip. Anthea’s effortlessly casual pose fell away as her shrewd eyes took Sally in from head to toe. “A fool? Do you have any idea- ?”

“There’s always a tell, innit. Something that gives it away.” Sally interrupted her. The corner of her mouth tugged upward and she draped her arms over Anthea’s shoulders, her hands linking behind her neck. “ _I_ care too much…but you’re up waiting for me, knowing how I feel after nights this long. What I need.” She breathed in the warm smells of home that filled the kitchen and she leaned in to brush her mouth over her girlfriend’s. “I know your secret, you know. No one cares as much as you do. When you choose to.”

Their mouths met, the heat growing between them as Sally shifted her arms and rolled Anthea back against the counter.

“Don’t you want the waffles? You’re always so hungry, but too tired-“ Anthea managed between kisses, as she shrugged off her blouse. Sally’s head dropped low to rain kisses over her cleavage, pushed tightly up in a silky contraption of a bra.

“I love you for noticing but right now I just want you,” Sally said, slipping a hand between Anthea’s legs and widening the gap with her thigh. The pricey skirt was around Anthea’s waist and her knickers down to her knees before she processed what Sally said.

“You can’t. If you knew me, you wouldn’t.” She stroked Sally’s curls as she knelt before Anthea to smooth her knickers down the rest of the way to her ankles, and off her feet.

Sally gazed up at her. “I do know. And I do. So let me, alright?” She pulled Anthea closer, breathing in the scent of her, so close she need only bend in to taste. “Let me.” She swallowed hard, and caressed her way to the tops of her girlfriend’s thighs. “Open for me, love.”

Anthea arched back against the counter and moaned with her touch, and then there was only sweetness.


End file.
